


fake it 'til you make it

by aaronminyxrd



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coffee Shops, Fix-It, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:48:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23984830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aaronminyxrd/pseuds/aaronminyxrd
Summary: Cedric Diggory decides to spend a quiet afternoon at a muggle cafe. And it was quiet-- until he’s confronted by a beaming Ron Weasley, followed by a very flustered Harry Potter.----------alternatively: "i didn't want to tell my friend who my real date last night was, so i pointed at you."
Relationships: Cedric Diggory/Harry Potter
Comments: 23
Kudos: 328





	fake it 'til you make it

**Author's Note:**

> is this basically a coffee shop AU? yes

Say what you want about Gryffindors, but they aren't _completely_ reckless. There's an art to their ways, a finesse. 

At least, that’s what Harry tells himself as he gestures towards the only other guy in the coffee shop to a very skeptical Ron. 

“Harry, mate, are you _sure_ that’s who your date was last night?”

Harry chances another look at the stranger. They _did_ look relatively the same age, at least. Broad shoulders, soft-looking brown hair. Nose stuffed in a book, Harry couldn’t make his face out properly, but if that chiseled side profile was anything to go by, Ron should be satisfied. After all, it was _his_ idea that Harry should try harder with the whole ‘dating’ thing. If only that didn’t mean having to admit to him just how dismally each date ended every time. Maybe if he said it went well for once, they can finally put this whole ordeal behind them. Truth be told, all Harry really wanted at the moment was to finish grading his papers in peace. 

And so, Harry squares his shoulders and lies through his teeth. “Yup.”

“Absolutely certain?”

He does his best not to run a hand through his hair. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“And it went well?”

“Spectacularly.” He takes a sip of his coffee. _And that’s that, I guess._

Ron stares at him then for what feels like an age, searching his face for something. Harry does his best to look unfazed--that is, until Ron abruptly stands, pushes his chair back in, and makes a beeline towards the stranger Harry had been pointing at not even minutes before. 

Harry very nearly spits out his drink. Thankfully there aren’t that many customers, but he does catch the barista eyeing them warily. He smiles apologetically at her in return, doing his best not to knock their whole table over as he goes after Ron.

He reaches him just as the man looks up towards Ron, and then Harry (most likely in startled confusion at the barely contained racket he was creating). He starts as familiar gray eyes meet his own. Beside him, Ron is absolutely _beaming._

“Fancy seeing you here, Diggory.” 

Harry’s brain short circuits. 

“You as well.” Cedric says slowly, as if assessing the situation. 

_This cannot be happening._

He watches as Cedric looks once more at Ron, then at Harry, brows slightly furrowed. In a moment of what he’s sure has to be pure insanity, he can’t help but think of the expression as endearing. 

Cedric Diggory. Always so disarming. He berates himself for not noticing earlier. _How_ could he have not noticed earlier?

_Because this is a muggle cafe. Because you were desperate for an out with Ron’s dating schemes. Because part of you always thought of Cedric as too good to be true anyways. Even now. Even right in front of you._ He promptly tells the voice in his head to fuck off. 

He decides to focus instead on figuring out the best way to excuse themselves. In case that doesn’t work out (and if it _really_ comes down to it), Harry makes sure to make note of the most efficient path to the exit as well.

_Not the bravest thing to do_ , he admits. But when his dignity is at stake, he supposes he can make an exception. 

“So,” Ron continues, taking it upon himself to sit down on one of the empty chairs, “let’s get right to it.” 

Harry can’t help but grimace. There is no way this is ending in his favor. 

“Right to it.” Cedric repeats, looking to Harry as if hoping for an explanation. Harry has none to offer at the moment. Possibly ever. 

“Brilliant.” Ron nods, “Best to be quick about it. It’s not everyday--oi, sit _down_ why don’t you? I’ll leave you two alone soon enough.”

Cedric raises an eyebrow at this, but offers no further comment as he puts his book down on the table, giving them his full attention. Harry awkwardly sits down beside Ron.

“Short and sweet then?” Ron asks both of them. An awkward silence ensues, which Ron shrugs off. 

“Look, Diggory, nothing against you, but Harry hasn’t had a date that didn’t end with someone absolutely regretting all their life decisions the day after in a long, and I mean _long-”_

Harry coughs pointedly.

“-time.” Ron doesn’t miss a beat. “So good job, but I’m also not afraid of going after you myself if I see Harry crushed. I _will_ see to it. Would be a shame too if it came to that, considering how pretty he thinks your smile is.” 

Harry’s face must be beet red, he’s sure of it. In his peripheral vision, he sees the barista hiding a smirk as she does a very shoddy job of pretending not to be eavesdropping. 

“Do we understand each other then?” Ron finishes. 

_This has gone far enough._ Harry sighs, exasperated. He turns to Ron, intending to call his own bluff, but Cedric speaks first. 

"I think we understand each other very well," he replies smoothly. 

Harry’s head whips around to look at Cedric, not even bothering to hide his confusion. “You _do?_ ”

Cedric shrugs, all smiles. His eyes betrayed him, however-- Harry knows that conspiratorial mirth too well. “‘Course. Just trying to be a good friend, is all. Right?” 

“Exactly.” Ron nods once again, seemingly self-satisfied. “Well then, now that’s settled, I’ll be off. Hermione’ll be expecting me soon.” He doesn’t even bother asking for Harry to come along, waving him off when he tries to get up from his seat. 

“But Ron, the bill-” he half-heartedly attempts, shooting the barista a desperate glance. She pretends to not see him as she accepts Ron’s payment. 

“You can get it next time, mate!” And with a nod to the barista, and a cheery wave to him and Cedric, he’s out the door. 

Harry can’t help but think he’s just been out-finessed. 

* * *

When Oliver Wood suggested to him a muggle cafe that one of his friends frequents, he does not expect that friend to be Harry Potter.

Even if he does, he expects to be confronted by Ron Weasley even less.

What Cedric _had_ been expecting was a day of undisturbed quiet. Ever since he decided to transfer to Puddlemere United, his days were a blur of matches, training, press conference after press conference, impromptu interviews, rushed meals and not enough sleep.

“You’re _tired,_ Ced.” Wood had told him. “If we’ve any chance against the Harpies, it’s when everyone’s at their best possible form. That includes you.”

So after making Cedric take the words to heart, he took Oliver’s suggestion for an afternoon at that muggle cafe. 

And it was indeed a quiet afternoon...for about half an hour. It was around then he heard someone sputtering at a table somewhere to his right, and he was met with a very pleased Ron, and a very flustered Harry. 

Cedric likes to pride himself on his ability to read people and situations rather well. But he confesses that, right then, he had no idea what the bloody hell was happening. 

Most of Ron’s words blurred in his head, and he replied to the best of his ability. He also can’t help but think, as ridiculous as it was to think such things at that particular moment, that it was no wonder Harry of all people would enjoy this particular cafe so much. 

It’s quiet, and it’s homey. And with his dark jeans and oversized sweater, hair ever-messy, Harry fit right into the cottage aesthetic. Cedric himself had been quite taken by the wooden paneling and dimmed lighting, as well as the various pictures of forest trails hanging on the walls and a hearth in one of the corners. Not to mention, the treacle tart is outstanding. 

He didn’t realize he’d been staring until Harry sat down, and he flushed slightly, putting his book down when Ron started to speak again. _Wouldn’t want to be rude._

Ron goes on to say something being ‘short and sweet’ ( _which Harry is, don’t you think?_ His subconscious had mused, and Cedric promptly ignored), but suddenly there was talk about miserable first dates, an implication of getting hexed, Harry thinking _his_ smile is _pretty,_ and Cedric put the pieces together. 

“I think we understand each other very well,” he offered, and Harry’s head whipped around so fast his glasses skewed a bit. 

Cedric hoped he hadn't made matters worse, but judging by the extra spring in Ron's step when leaving the cafe, he figures he won't be on the receiving end of that hex after all. That’s one problem averted for him _and_ Harry. _Who, speaking of, looks quite mortified right now._

“Alright, Harry?” he ventured. Cedric half expects him to just walk right out.

“Gryffindor through and through,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair and glaring at the door before turning to Cedric. “I am _so_ sorry.” 

He frowns. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for, and you certainly don’t owe me an-”

But Harry’s already started. “You won’t _believe_ how persistent he is. Well-intentioned, but _stubborn._ And he’s even more impulsive than I am--don’t argue.”

“I wasn’t-”

“And I thought if I said one of my dates went well for once, it would be fine, you know? But then he starts asking questions I have no answers for, and I wasn’t about to reveal who my real date was last night, and why it went so horribly--I’ll never hear the end of it. So I thought: he’d never ask a _stranger,_ so I pointed at, well, you.”

“Definitely not a stranger.” The whole situation was so ridiculous, and so very _Harry_ that Cedric can’t help a smile. 

Harry smiles back shyly. “Definitely not.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Cedric says, putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder for reassurance before breaking out into a full-on grin. “But I know this story will absolutely do Oliver’s head in.”

Harry groaned. “Please don’t mention this to him.”

“Oh, I wasn’t planning to,” Cedric quips, “but Ron’s probably told Hermione by now, and then Ginny, and it’ll only be a matter of time before Oliver knows too. All in good humor, I suppose.” 

Strangely, Harry seems to deflate at this. 

“I suppose,” he replies. “How’s Puddlemere?” 

Cedric raises an eyebrow, but takes the bait. “Great. How’s Hogwarts?” 

They go back and forth. Harry tells him about Hogwarts and DADA and how he’s been managing Duelling Club. “McGonagall still calls me ‘Mister Potter,’ you know.”

“Well, would you like to call her Minerva?”

“Oh, Merlin, no.”

In turn, Cedric speaks about quidditch, about Oliver and the upcoming match. Harry’s been to a few games Cedric’s played, and he’s seen him with Ron a few times at Harpies matches, but this is the only time they really managed to catch up alone. Still, something about the conversation bothers him. It’s too polite, too rehearsed, as if they’re both just reading off a script: saying what they should say, but not what they _want_ to say.

_Maybe it’s time to improvise?_

“Who was your real date last night?” 

Harry freezes, fork with Cedric’s leftover treacle tart halfway to his mouth. He places it back down, looking at Cedric intently. 

Cedric knows that look.

He saw it on a thirteen year old boy catching the snitch for the House Cup, a fourteen year old about to face a dragon, a fifteen year old teaching Defense, a sixteen year old drunk on felix felicis, a seventeen year old ready to die for the world. 

It’s a sudden intensity, a calculating focus, an unshakeable determination. It’s a passion so raw and unbridled and natural-- and Cedric is swept up before he even knows there’s a current.

“Why do you want to know?” Harry asks. “Good humor?”

A challenge. 

Cedric meets his gaze. “That would imply there was a joke in the first place.”

A confession. 

Harry’s eyes widen, and Cedric releases a breath he doesn’t realize he’s holding. 

But then Harry _smiles,_ genuine and infectious, and Cedric can’t help but return it. 

And yeah, Cedric still doesn’t know who Harry’s date was, or the story behind why it had gone so terribly. But as he and Harry continue their afternoon in the cafe, he finds himself thinking it doesn’t matter. Besides, he has a good feeling about the next one.

**Author's Note:**

> i take back what i said this is now canon and not even jkr can stop me. i will die on the hedric train
> 
> pls yell with me and request stuff if u want! @ [arimendoza](https://arimendoza.tumblr.com/)
> 
> after like 3545 years im back and it's honestly bc i miss my kids. also in general im just in such a better headspace for writing. i missed it! 
> 
> anyways hope y'all enjoyed :)


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